I was one breath away from knocking her phone into her wine glass.
“It’s so pretty—“ Molly showed the photo to Abigail and Diana, then turned it back around and ignored my pleas. “I’m posting it. Everyone wants to know what Tyler’smysteryfiancé looks like,” she said with a giggle.
I could hear my heartbeat in my ears, my frustration rising. “Please—“
“Oh, good,” Abigail spoke over me. “You should get one of us, too—“
“I saiddon’t post the fucking photo!” I snapped suddenly.
The three of them stopped talking, and the waitresses paused in the midst of switching out our desserts. Everyone’s eyes landed on me, and I forced myself to take a breath.
My hand was curled around the fork like I could snap it in half.
“Please… Do not post any photos of me,” I managed in the calmest voice I could control.
Molly slowly set down her phone, the app she had pulled up now closing. “Okay… no need to freak out,” she mumbled.
“There is reason to freak out when I asked you nicely twice not to post, and you continued to do it,” I snapped before I could stop myself.
“Chloe, it’s just a photo,” Abigail said. "You don't need to get upset."
“Yeah, what’s with you?” Molly asked.
I closed my eyes, counting back from five before responding. “You know, I’m feeling tired. I think I'll just catch an Uber back to the vineyard." I stood, gathering my things and refusing to respond to their flabbergasted expressions. “Ah… I liked the chocolate one—“
“I can make you a box,” Demi said before rushing off.
“Chloe, you don’t have to leave,” Abigail said.
“I do,” I said exasperatedly. “Because when someone asks you not to do something so simple, you don’t keep pushing when you don’t know their reason behind refusing it.”
“Then tell us why you don’t want your picture posted. Do you not want us to share wedding photos, either?” Molly scoffed. “That will be hard to tell nearly three hundred people.”
“This is uncalled for,” Diana said. “Disrespectful. Your mother-in-law arranges all of these things, has dealt with all of these decisions, and you can’t even be grateful enough to let her post a photo of you—“
“No, I cannot,” I affirmed. “I don’t owe you an explanation as to why, either. And while we’re on the subject, I never asked her to do any of it. You all were so impatient and ready for your son to be married that you took it upon yourselves to plan it. I am grateful for all of it. I really am. But you don’t get to throw it in my face when I never asked.”
Demi returned with a bag, and I took it, quickly thanking her. I looked around the table one last time, my gaze landing on Abigail. I gave her a tight-lipped smile, and she nodded slightly in response.
I didn’t say anything else as I rushed through the extravagant house, all the way to the front, where I stood alone for the next twenty minutes waiting on my Uber to pick me up.
None of them came to ask me not to leave.
“I hope you like the lemon one,” Demi said as she and her team put away some of the tasting boxes. Demi sat a box down in the back of her van and dusted off her hands on her white apron, peering at me over her cat-eye glasses. Her permed, short black hair was smoothed to her head, little pinwheel curls secured to the sides. She reminded me of a 50s pinup model with her hair, the glasses, and the pink dress. Her brown skin was flawless, a shimmer of highlight accentuating her cheekbones and petite face. Something about her smile seemed familiar, but I couldn’t place it.
“It’s my favorite,” she said, and I blinked.
“What?”
“The lemon cake,” she explained. “It’s a lemon poppyseed cake, lemon curd, and elderflower buttercream between the layers. Candied lemons and sanding sugar on the top. And a light vanilla buttercream on the outside. It’s the one I usually do as a sort of naked cake and decorate with flowers. The taste is divine if I do say so myself.”
My lips flinched like I might smile. “Sounds delicious,” I said. “I’ll try it when I get back to the vineyard.”
“Which one?” she asked.
“Ah, Wiltons,” I answered.
“Oh, that’s not far from us. Abigail should have had us bring the cakes there. It would have been less of a drive,” she said with a look inside. “You know, I can take you back if you like,” she offered.
